


Tattooed Death

by Blakdawn



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7898608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blakdawn/pseuds/Blakdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This much is known, Taylor Hebert goes into a locker and comes out a changed woman. How she is changed, and by who, is still up for debate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Man Pain

_'How many then, have looked upon the Gardens of their Grief, the Throne of their Misery, and shied away? Numbers beyond counting. Only those who accept their Failures, their Weaknesses know power as I do.'_ \- Old Man Pain, Tattooed Death (Collated Issues 1-10 English Translation).

 

 

“Oh God! They're crawling all...Emma, please let me out! I'll do anything, anything,” I shouted, hoping, praying that she, or anyone would help, have even the slightest hint of a soul.

 

Nothing.

 

There were still people out there, I could hear them, some were laughing, others maybe just watching as the quiet girl who took shit from Emma, Sophia, Madison and a host of others slowly died in a locker.

 

_Fuckers._

 

The thought was quiet, as I continued to shout and bang as best I could, but it was there. They hadn't cared before and know that the Trio tried to kill me they just stood there, watching, like good little sheep.

 

Hatred blossomed up through me, it almost...ran through my body, tingling in my extremities, it was warm, not comforting, but it returned feeling to my finger which had been tingling from pins and needles.

 

It was only them that I paid attention to what I was actually shouting “...Hate you all! I **will** get out of here and I **will** kill you all slowly, painfully,” the rest died on my lips, these were not my words,

 

_but aren't they your thoughts?_

 

And I realised with a shock that they were, I truly hated them all, I knew what hate felt like, the early days, when Emma betrayal was still something I had not come to terms with I hated Sophia, for what she had done, for what she represented. Since then the hate had been worn down by grim familiarity, replaced with dread, despair and fear.

 

But now the hatred roared back pounding in my ears, behind my still closed eyes, in all of me blood pumped I could almost feel it and…

 

I stopped, so focused on my inner thoughts was I that I neglected my surroundings, which now had a very different feel to them, had my locker door been opened and I hadn't noticed?

 

Hesitantly I opened my eyes, then immediately shut them, it was still black, but someone even more dark than the locker had been, it had had a small crack at the top, a small sliver of light played across the inside.

 

This though was so dark it almost hurt.

 

Am I dead?

 

Was the first thought, while I had never been particularly religious, I always pictured heaven as some kind of white place full of clouds, and hell as lost of fire and brimstone and demons, this fit neither.

 

“To go to either, if they even exist, requires that you die, does it not?” A voice spoke beihnd me, an old voice, cracked from overuse.

 

I span around and faced the oldest man I had ever seen, his skin pock marked, wrinkled and saggy, liver spots lined his temple and only the barest wisp of white hair was visible just above his ears, he was also small, slightly smaller than I was, and looked emaciated. His clothes, a faded green coat over a black shirt, plus Black trousers looked about as old as he was, thin and ragged at the edges, with obvious patches for repairs.

 

I took a step back at the intrusion, instantly wary, a parahuman perhaps?

 

“Who are you?” I asked

 

“I am Old Man Pain,” the way he spoke even with his weak, old voice made it clear his name was capitalized, even stranger I recognized the name, though where I had heard it escaped me.

 

“are you a parahuman?” perhaps he had been mentioned in world issues, or on the news, and that was where I had heard of him.

 

“no,” he looked at me, his eyes, which I had avoided looking at, were completely black, he held me in his gaze for a few seconds, then turned away facing the black beyond. “you do not know why I am here,”

 

it could have been phrased as a question, it wasn't, but I answered anyway

 

“no, I don't, why are you here?” I asked. Old Man Pain sighed heavily and turned back around, facing me again

 

“In the darkness you cried out, with anger and with pain, with betrayal and with hatred. And I answered you, with power and with authority, with might and with victory!” as he said the words the years seemed to shed off him, he stood straighter and his voice burned with passion.

 

“I don't...I don't understand,” I said I a small voice, having shrunk away from him.

 

“not yet, but you will. You want revenge?” he asked, having returned to his previous state, looking as old as time.

 

“I...yes,” and I did, perhaps it was petty of me, but I wanted, no, needed revenge.

 

Old Man Pain said nothing, only holding out his hand, and just like that I knew what to do, what would happen.

 

With only a second's hesitation I grasped his hand, and everything changed.

 

I was back in the locker, maybe time had passed, maybe it hadn't. All that mattered was all three of them were still outside, I knew this.

 

Then I was grasped by ghostly hands and flung out of the locker, onto ground. All the people surrounding the locker were quiet, maybe, it was all happening at a distance, like looking through a pane of glass.

 

No, what interested me was Old Man Pain, no longer in the clothes I first saw him in, this time he was dressed as an executioner, complete with face mask. He looked at me blankly, without even a flicker of recognition. He merely pointed at the executioners block, and again the ghostly hands lifted me up, and placed my head in it, my head turned to face him, as he walked towards me, When he was at the correct point he stopped walking and looked down at me

 

“do you have any last requests?” he asked in that same age worn voice.

 

“yes,” I answered, then I turned my head to face the trio who were all lined up at the front, and grinned with all my teeth “Revenge,”

 

Old Man Pain nodded, though I didn't see it, and pulled out his sword, commenting

 

“A worthy request,” He then raised up the sword and brought it crashing down on my neck.

 

_Here lies Taylor Anne Hebert_

 

_1995-2011_

 

_'Time is the cruelest mistress'_


	2. Interlude PHO 1

Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards  
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■

♦Topic: OMG execution by cape  
In: Boards ► America ► Northwest ► Brockton Bay

XxVoid CowboyxX (Original Poster)  
Posted on January 6, 2011:

I know everyones going to say pics or it didn't happen, but I have video proof [link].

Taylor Hebert got trapped in a locker, ten got pulled out and killed by an executioner.

I know the video only has the last bit but everyone says thats what ahppened.

the executioner lookskinda familiar...cant place him through.

EDIT: removed the description of the video.

(Showing Page 3 of 3)

 

► TanTanHotCold  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
Can we please bring the discussion back on topic, I hear the mods prowling...

Yes the executioner does look familiar, maybe hes an ol school villain from the eighties? anyone got any better ideas?

► XxVoid CowboyxX (Original Poster)  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
Ive got it!

hes old man pain rom the tattoed death manga, I was glacning throuh my shelf when I noticed it.

► NotANiceGuy  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
what

► XxVoid CowboyxX (Original Poster)  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
no really.

lok at the xecutioner in he video [link

and this is Old Mna Pain when he kills Xyclon [link]

► NotANiceGuy  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
holy shit.

its been what nearly 2 years, bu void Cwboy is finally (maybe) right about something. The resemblance is uncanny.

maybe tis is a nutjob cape who read the manga and thouht 'meh sound like fun'?

► XxVoid CowboyxX (Original Poster)  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
or maybe it really is him, and gvae taylor all the really cool powers he gave Xyclon.

► TanTanHotCold  
Replied on January 6, 2011:  
see what you've done NotANiceGuy?

SEE WHAT YOUVE DONE?

yove unleased a monster on us all, someone please mute voidcowboy beofre he drains more of our iq.

 

End of Page. 1, 2, 3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented or left kudos on this.
> 
> Just in case no one read the comments, yes Old Man Pain and Tattooed Death are my own creations, not part of any existing franchise.
> 
> only taylor saw the first meeting with Old Man Pain, all anyone else saw was her being pulled out of the locker and executed.
> 
> the reason I have chosen short chapters is so that I can get them out faster and more importantly not get bogged down and give up (see everything I have ever written for proof)

Graveyards had always interested Old Man Pain.

Maybe not for the reasons expected, but there was a certain...poetry to them, starting at the front and working back to the older graves, tracing families, finding disasters and plagues, war and famine. It was a physical representation of the passage of time, of the comings and goings of people, of their successes, built in marble and stone, and their failures.

He could spend hours passing through a graveyard, few, if any, ever bothered him, perhaps they assumed he had family buried there, perhaps they did not notice him.

It didn't matter, it never did.

This time, though, he was walking through a graveyard with purpose, towards an end goal. Taylor Hebert.

Or rather her remains, which had been buried just two days before, he had attended the funeral, watched the casket as it was lowered in, as her father wept silently, perhaps he wept for her, or for the lack of attendees, or for some other reason.

It didn't matter, it never did.

As Old Man Pain approached the grave he looked at the carved stone tablet, reading the inscription. Turning the words over in his head, analyzing the meaning.

Then, without hurry or haste, he pulled out his sword held it in both hands, and drove it, blade first, into the ground.

He waited, perhaps for 5 seconds, perhaps for 5 minutes, but the end result was the same, a hand grasped the hilt. The hand though lacked definition and form, a ghostly hand, but the instant it touched the hilt it changed, it became more solid, more defined.

Old Man Pain watched, not with interest, as slowly, ever so slowly her wrist and then her arm began to appear, first ghostly, then more solidly.

The graveyard was empty at this time of night, with no light here save the moon and stars, which meant they would be no interruptions as the body began to come together.

As ever the solidification became faster as it continued, her body came together faster and faster. Soon, less than 10 minutes after it had begun, the process was half complete, spreading across her chest, rebuilding her left breast, and solidifying her naval.

In less than twenty minutes the process was complete, Taylor Hebert's body stood there, completely naked, missing only her head.

This part was the one that interested Old Man Pain, as it was always different, he stretched out his hand, and pressed it against where the crown of her head should be.

The effect was instant, her head appeared and solidified, faster than most could see, and then the tattoos spread, almost alive as they coiled down her body, wrapping around her, any one of which could be traced forever without finding either end. Most were black, picked out in highlights of red and gold, save one that went down her right arm, which was an iridescent blue.

Finally she gasped, and opened her eyes, both of them completely white, shining with an inner light.

His task complete, Old Man Pain nodded once, turned as walked away. She didn't follow him, maybe she was in shock, maybe the enormity of what had transpired overwhelmed her, maybe she was tired.

It didn't matter, it never did.


	4. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not say that i'm sorry for the delay, the kettle lead (the one from the mains to the PSU) died which meant all the work I had done was lost until I could get a replacement.
> 
> But I will say that I'm sorry this chapter is both shorter and not as good, it was meant to be at least twice as long and the gap had ruined the flow for me.
> 
> EDIT: big thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos, it really does motivate me.

Taylor stumbled over another grave and cursed Old Man Pain. When she had...woken up, for lack of a better term, she had been in the middle of a graveyard, at night with no light, completely naked and holding a sword.

 

So trying to get out, particularly while being stealthy, was very difficult, the lack of light also meant it was hard to evaluate her condition, she felt fine, and a brief exploration of her body revealed no blood, but without a light and a mirror Taylor had no idea what, if anything, had happened to her.

 

As much as her enforced nudity should bother her, it did not. Maybe it was the fact that she had no choice in the matter. Graveyards, after all, do not usually come equipped with a clothes shop, or perhaps it was simply liberating, she had been raised from the dead, something that, as far as she was aware, was beyond even the most powerful parahumans.

 

Or perhaps it was because she had a mission.

 

Taylor was not sure what the mission was, it was vague, cloudy in her mind, but she knew what she must do to find out her mission.

 

Get revenge.

 

For she knew, intrinsically, that she had made a deal, and in return for giving her a chance at revenge, Old Man Pain wanted something in return, this mission, whatever it was.

 

So her path was set, get out of this graveyard, find clothes and set about the business of revenge.

 

Again she cursed as she tripped over another grave, this one at an odd angle compared to the others in the row she had been crossing.

 

This continued for another twenty minutes, as she found a metal fence surrounding the graveyard and followed it until she reached a small side gate, this led out into an even darker field, presumably expansion space for the graveyard.

 

This time she followed the fence, but on the other side and she found a gate leading out to the main road, however this gate was locked, and while the chain looked old it and the lock and the gate were obviously well cared for, she couldn't force it open.

 

As she stood and pondered how to get out, Taylor swiftly realized that the only way out, that wouldn't lead to more stumbling about in the dark was to break the chain.

 

The most obvious way to do this was with the sword, only, she didn't have it.

 

She distinctly remembered pulling it out of the ground and holding it as she tried to make her way out of the graveyard, she didn't put it down, did she?

 

Perhaps it was fortune, or perhaps destiny, but before Taylor decided to go back and search for it she leaned against the metal fence to rest her legs for a few seconds, when she did so there was a sharp metallic clang.

 

The sword was on her back, somehow.

 

Taylor reached above her shoulder and felt out the hilt of the sword, careful not to grip the blade. Then she pulled it out of the invisible sheath it was in, for there was no other way it was attached to her back, and brought it down, slowly and carefully, for this sword was obviously not normal and Taylor didn;t feel like testing out its capabilities on herself.

 

Still the fact that this sword was almost certainly obscenely powerful meant it shouldn't take much force to break the chain and get out.

 

So Taylor raised the sword above her head, and brought it down on the chain.

 

And missed.

 

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, as she raised the sword again, and brought it down on the chain.

 

Which made an almighty racket, with metal crashing against metal, but it didn't break.

 

This time Taylor's cheeks didn't burn with embarrassment, instead she burned with rage.

 

With a wordless yell she swung the sword up and brought it down on the chain in one swift motion. This time the sword seemed to vanish as it passed through the chain, only to reappear when it had passed through.

 

For a second nothing happened, then the chain simply fell apart, all the links buckling and breaking as one.

 

She let go of the sword like it was on fire, allowing it to fall to the ground, and stumbled back slightly. Once on the floor the sword did not do anything, the earth itself did not buckle and break as the chain had.

 

Taylor walked around the sword and pushed open the gate, which squealed due to disuse. On a whim she reached behind herself to where the sword had been before and found that she was gripping the hilt.

 

She spun around to find the sword had disappeared from where it had been lying on the ground, Old Man Pain had given her a teleporting sword, Taylor almost laughed at how silly it sounded, she had been raised from the dead and cut a deal with someone she had never even heard of, to get revenge on her old friend and her cronies, and the most amazing thing was the fact that he had given her a teleporting sword.

 

She couldn't help it, the laugh tore from her throat as she practically fell against the metal bars and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

When she opened her eyes, Taylor found herself on the ground, her sword next to her. It was still night, but it was, perhaps, slightly lighter than it had been, and if it was getting lighter then it was going to be early morning in just a few more hours.

 

Which brought her back to the state of undress, she had to get at least some clothes on, even a coat. To that end she stood, picking up her sword and placing it on her back, then she walked out of the field onto the sidewalk, looking around Taylor didn’t recognize any of it, presumably she was still in the bay, but she had no idea where she was.

 

At any other time Taylor would have been overwhelmed, lost, naked and alone, as it was she had run out of emotions, shock perhaps? She had heard that people in shock didn’t react emotionally, precisely because the emotions would paralyze them.

 

The practical side of her said that since she had no clothes the first thing would be to find them, as unappealing as dumpster diving was it was more appealing than wandering around naked. Of course the flaw with the plan was the distinct lack of dumpsters to dive. In fact, looking up and down the road, she couldn’t see much of anything, part of that maybe to do with fact that she didn’t have glasses on, so Taylor picked a direction at random, right, and walked down the road, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

 

It didn’t take more than a minute to reach the end of the road, which was part of a T junction, and here Taylor saw a row of shops, with alleyways carving even darker paths between them. None of them appeared to be open, in fact there didn’t appear to be any life on the street at all.

 

Taking a chance Taylor scurried across the empty road and into the nearest alley, which, aside a few rats which disappeared into various cracks and other hiding places as she approached, was devoid of life. However there were several big green dumpsters, a few small unpainted steel trash cans, and several black plastic bags.

 

Not wishing to tear open the bags and not liking the smell coming from the dumpster, Taylor decided to open the trash cans. Inside were more black bags, gingerly she opened the first bag, which revealed a lot of mangy food, bugs and little else, desperately trying not to breath at all she put the lid back on and walked back out onto the sidewalk and had a closer look at the shops, the one on the left was a cafe and the other was a pet store of some kind, neither would be likely to throw out clothes, and she wasn’t tempted to go back and check.

 

Therefore Taylor walked down the row to see if there were any shops that might have what she was looking for, right at the end of the row she struck gold as she found a clothes shop. A quick search of the various bins along the side of the building turned up a lot of scraps of materials, nothing even remotely wearable, until Taylor pulled up a bin bag and found some kind of coat underneath. Carefully she placed the bag to the side and pulled the coat out, shaking it open.

 

In the incredibly dim light Taylor couldn’t make out much, but the coat was a dark colour, probably black and would easily cover her from neck to just below her knees. Taylor briefly patted it, particularly the inside for anything...untoward, it seemed clean and perhaps more importantly dry, so with only a slight hesitation she swung it around her shoulders trying to get a feel for the size.

 

For one, the coat was far to big, enshrouding her even when it wasn’t done up, it was also quite rough on the inside, probably because, Taylor thought sardonically, the designers intended for you to wear clothes under it.

 

“One out of five stars, no good for flashing,” she half whispered, laughing slightly at her own joke, as she put the coat on and rolled up the sleeves so she actually had hands. Rather than buttoning it up Taylor pulled it around herself s far as it would go and tied belt to hold it together.

 

Having gotten dressed Taylor reached up and felt the, almost, reassuring handle of her sword, thankfully whatever power kept it attached to her back wasn’t impeded by the coat, though she couldn’t help but wonder how she was supposed to keep it hidden.

 

That however was something she was going to have to consider later, right now she needed something to eat, the hunger had crept up on her, and her focus on finding clothes had distracted her, but now I was back in full force.

 

The bins in the other alley had been full of moldy food, which meant that there was a cafe or a restaurant or something on the row, and while Taylor didn’t like stealing, it was better than starving or eating out of a bin.

 

Decision made she turned back out of the alley and made her way back to the other alley, rather than break in through the front which likely had better security and was much more public, so she went around the foul smelling bins until she reached the back alley that ran across the back of the row, which, while not clean, was at least slightly better smelling than the alley leading to it.

 

Taylor found the door easily enough, and while it was locked, it proved no match to the Sword Without A Name, maybe she should call it SWAN?

 

Brushing the irrelevant thought aside she crept in, careful not to knock anything over, while she doubted there was anyone in, she had seen enough heist films to know what happened if someone brushed a pen or something off a table. He room she had entered wasn’t what she expected, not the brushed steel and ceramic of a restaurant, but maybe a break room, there were chairs scattered round and a table, but most importantly no food, but there were two doors leading off one to the left and one directly in front of her, both looked exactly the same so she took the left and nearest one.

 

She was disappointed, it was locked, obviously, but once inside it looked like it the managers office, so she took the other door and entered the kitchen, which, while shabbier than she expected did look like a kitchen. Looking around, without even the small amounts of ambient light that he other two rooms had made it much harder, but the room itself was simply set up, with sinks and ovens and table around the periphery and a single island in the middle, so she made a quick loop around the room and found the door which obviously led the walk in refrigerator, quite aide from the squeeze handle, it had ‘Food Storage ONLY’ on a sign next to it, fortunately it wasn’t locked, not that it would have proved a problem.

 

Inside the fridge was even darker than the kitchen, if that was at all possible, she had propped open the door with the first thing she could find, a cardboard box, hopefully it would keep the door from shutting. Even without light she could feel along the shelves that lined the walls, most of the food on the shelves were tins and dried food, things that would keep even without a fridge, then at the end of the row was what she had been looking for, a half finished loaf of bread, quickly she pulled it off the shelf and went back out into the kitchen to get a better look in the light. It was it had seemed, a loaf of wholemeal bread, aware of the signals her stomach were sending her, Taylor grabbed the first slice and almost ate it, before she realized that eating the bread would only be half the battle, she needed something to drink, looking around she spotted a tap, though no glass.

 

Looking through the cupboards go her a mug which she filled with water, that done she tore into the bread, eating slice after slice, stopping only when the loaf was finished, including crusts, which she usually didn’t eat, then she eagerly gulped down the water.

 

It was only once the frenzy of eating had finished that Taylor noticed she still felt hungry, enough for her to want more, which was unusual, Taylor had not been one to skip meals, but she usually felt full afterwards, and half a loaf of bread ought to have had a similar effect.

 

 _Still_ , she reasoned, _I was dead, I mean no-one else has come back from the dead to complain about feeling hungry,_ perhaps if she ate more she would feel full.

 

30 minutes, and about half way through the fridges contents, Taylor was forced to concede that she didn’t feel full, in fact it was as though her stomach had turned into a black hole, maybe it had, because her stomach hadn’t bulged even slightly even after everything she ate. She could feel the tears at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away, crying for being unable to feel, or even be full, was useless. Besides she could imagine that half the girls in Winslow, including Emma, would murder for her ability to eat all day and not have to worry about the scales.

 

Taylor got to her feet, the thought, even about Emma, bringing an unexpected smile to her face, and suddenly felt tired, perhaps not surprising, given what she had just done, but she couldn’t just fall asleep in the middle of a kitchen, so back out into alley she went, trying to think of a good spot to lay down for a few minutes, the alley, while close was not exactly hygienic, and would provide no shelter, perhaps there was bench, or maybe the graveyard.

 

Part of her shied away from the place where she had been buried, on the other hand it was easy to access, had plenty of trees, or even the church to shelter under and was plenty large enough for her to escape detection.

 

Mind made up she walked back the way she came ignoring, or perhaps forgetting, the carnage she had created.

 

 

The graveyard was just as irritating the navigate as last time, though thankfully Taylor wasn’t trying to get back to her...grave, instead just find somewhere to lay down and rest.

 

As she walked Taylor considered what would happen, after all people, even parahumans, don’t come back from the dead, going to a police station would probably not do a whole lot, no doubt people would think she was a madwoman, or a parahuman, but one that could shape shift, neither would help and could quite possibly be detrimental, and that didn’t even consider her sword, no going to the police would end up like any other time she tried; ignored, alone and actively harmful to what she was trying to accomplish.

 

After a few minutes she came across a small patch of land, under the shade of a tree, there were giant monuments and graves scattered around which would hide her from casual inspection, so making sure her coat would flap about and reveal her lack of other clothes, she lay down and within seconds of closing her eyes she was asleep.

 

Which was a mistake.

 

_I was on lying on a floor, quite a cold one at that, it felt like the floors at winslow, tough, but also rough from a lack of maintenance, it was a floor I had felt many times before, after being tripped or shoved._

 

_Slowly I got to my feet, wary of being pushed again._

 

“ _Oh, Taylor,” came Emma’s voice from somewhere above me, “you really **ought to kill me** ought to be more careful next time, tripping up like that,” there was a malicious glee in her voice, no doubt being egged on by her coterie._

 

_I turned around and saw them, all three of them, Emma with her pinned back black hair which writhed like snakes, Madison her five arms each holding a mobile phone, constantly tapping away at them, and finally Sophia, but Sophia had something wrong with her, there was a hole in her head and a black liquid was being fed into the hole, other than that she was perfectly normal, with one eye in the centre of her face and gasping faces breathing heavily on her knees._

 

“ _you,” I growled and took a step forward, hand almost instinctively reaching for my sword, but when I did, it wasn’t there._

 

“ _aww, have you lost **everything** your little toy, Taylor?” Madison practically sing-songed, her grin reaching past her ears and looping into a single circle around her face “how on earth will you **punish us** make it through the day without it?”_

 

_I saw red._

 

_A cliché perhaps, but I did, and without even a flicker of thought I rushed them, I was going to wipe that goddamned grin of Madison's faces, I was going to make them hurt, make then pay! All three of them stood perfectly still even as I covered the scant feet between them, then, as I drew my fist back Sophia burst into action, grabbing my arm and bringing her knee to my groin and the face to bite down hard, then swung out of the way, allowing my momentum to send me stumbling past them._

 

_I screamed with pain, but I couldn’t stop, I turned and found Madison there, the phones put away and her arms outstretched, rather than charge as before I decided to let her come to me._

 

_Again this proved a mistake as Sophia came around on Madison's left, and moved confidently towards me._

 

“ _I told you **she’s nothing** she can’t fight for shit,” then she charged and unlike her, I had no grace, no fluidity that allowed me to pull off the maneuver she had, instead I battered aside the left she she swung in a large arc at my face, but caught her right fist just below the rob cage, as it had jabbed out even as I avoided to more obvious and, in retrospect, telegraphed attack._

 

_The breath flew out of me, and then Madison was there using her five arms and hands to hold me down, and I watched as Emma, who had done nothing walked towards me, letting her hair down. Her stood looking at me for a few seconds with only vague interest in her eyes, like I was an interesting bug, then she sat on my chest._

 

“ _Hmm,” she said as she adjusted her seat, “not much padding here,” then she brought her face to mine and I watched unable to even speak as one of the snakes detached itself from the group and struck biting deeply into my neck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright sorry for the delay, again.
> 
> I'm looking for names for her sword, I have one that I can use but I want to know if you guys have any better ideas, drop a comment and if I think it's better I'll be sure to credit you.


End file.
